Poetic Justice
by abandonyourdefenses
Summary: Harry Potter has always been different. This much he knew for sure. Follow him in this tale of life, love, competition, poetry, and finding who he really is. SLASH. Don't like, don't read. GoF canon re-write. R&R please! Rated for possible smut in later chapters.
1. Prologue

Poetic Justice

by: abandonyourdefenses

Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of the Harry Potter series and I am not making money off of this work. So please don't sue me, I'm already a broke college student as is.

Prologue

Harry Potter had always been different. This much he knew for sure. The obvious difference was that he was a wizard, but he relished and embraced this difference completely. It was his escape from the cruel and mundane life he had once lived, before that fateful day when a certain half-giant had beat down the door of that lone shack on a storm-swept island. To this day, he still gets a good chuckle out of his cousin Dudley with a pig's tail adorning his considerably wide backside.

The next difference was that he didn't look like other kids, not even at Hogwarts. He was shorter than most, skinnier than most (but still had that stocky, sturdy build meant to accomodate a Seeker), with jet-black hair that could not and would not be tamed. A lightning scar graced his high forehead which only complimented his piercing emerald green eyes shaped like almonds. As far as looks went, Harry Potter was a very unique looking 14 year old boy.

But the biggest difference of all, and one that our young protagonist has been noticing more and more as of late, is that he wasn't quite sure what love was, or rather, whom he should love.

Having never been shown how two people should love another (an example that should've been given by his parents, but we all know that sad story), Harry naturally has no clue what a healthy, stable, and loving relationship should look like. Neither does he know what gender he should be with. He thinks girls are lovely, sure. Cho Chang has that alluring sway of the hips and that irresistibly sexy way of biting her lips when she's nervous. Ginny Weasley has those compelling eyes and perky breasts.

But these are all physical attributes, things that fade with time. Harry has never been one to judge or like someone because of their topographical fairness, however astounding it may be. No, no - our hero knows that beauty is only skin deep. And this is what has always stumped him with the ladies. He never finds their personalities attractive in ways that aren't purely platonic.

Not like Oliver Wood, who is driven and wickedly talented. Not like Fred and George Weasley, who's mischief and tomfoolery make them dangerously sexy (though he would never act on his attractions, being Ron Weasley's best mate and all). Not like Neville Longbottom, who's so adorably innocent that Harry sometimes just wants to kiss the pants off him.

Except, Harry is probably just as innocent as Neville. Never been kissed, let alone had the pants kissed off him. A fact that Harry finds tragic.

In this installment of Harry's years at Hogwarts, we will follow Harry as he explores life, love, poetry, friendship, Firewhiskey, and many other things. And above all these, we will find out who shows Harry what love really means, whilst showing him who Harry really is.

**A/N: Well I love this chapter! It's just the prologue, but still :p I think it's some of my best stuff yet!**

**If you're here because you are an Off By Heart fan, I'm really sorry to say that I have discontinued and deleted it. It was not going the way I wanted to (which is to say that it was turning out really horribly), and I can write better stories. Rhiannon was a total Mary Sue anyway. If anyone is interested in adopting the story though, said persons can PM me and I will be more than happy to send them the original documents. You can do whatever you want with it, just as long as you credit me for the original idea. **

**I'm really hoping that I will be able to post another chapter soon for this, but I wouldn't count on it. College takes up pretty much all of my free time during the week, and my courseload is only going to become greater. I only managed to be able to write this by some sheer miracle. Don't worry, I have a definite plan of action for this story (unlike with Off By Heart). It will basically be a Goblet of Fire canon re-write, but in MY story, Harry is a flaming homo who falls in love with none other than the first Hogwarts champion, our very own Hufflepuff Hottie! **

**Please review? I'll send all you basic white bitches some Starbucks if you do. **

**Kails x**


	2. Last Night I Dreamt Somebody Loved Me

Poetic Justice

by: abandonyourdefenses

Disclaimer: I do not own the amazing universe that is Harry Potter, because if I did I would not be sitting on my couch writing fanfiction and eating grapes.

Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me

Hermione's shrill voice awoke Harry from his slumber. "Harry! Ron! You both have got to wake up! We need to leave for the World Cup in half an hour!"

At this, Ron gave a disgruntled moan. Harry heard the none-too-gentle _thunk_ of pillow against head and Hermione hissing, "And don't give me that grumbling, Ronald Weasley. You would sleep right through the match if it weren't for me."

Hermione exited the room, and Ron used a few choice words for what he would do if it weren't for her. Harry finally opened his eyes, massaging his forehead to try and ease the pain emulating from his trademark lightning bolt scar. His dream had been very weird. Very weird, indeed. The hands of Voldemort had been reaching toward him in the darkness, and then they turned into soft but masculine hands of loving tenderness. Just before Harry had seen the face of his captor, he had woken up. Or, rather, Hermione had awakened him.

Shaking the curious thoughts from his mind for the time being, he sat up in bed only for the glorious smell of bacon and fried eggs to hit his nostrils. This was enough to motivate him to run a marathon. He hastily pulled on his Bulgaria-themed jumper, hand-me-down trousers, and holy trainers in an effort to be the first to get some breakfast. Of course, he had been beaten by Hermione, Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley, and the twins. But he was still awarded with a hearty, steaming plate of toast with jam, bacon, and eggs. He scarfed it all down within 5 minutes, winning an awe-filled stare from George.

It wasn't long until they were all being kissed on the cheeks by Mrs. Weasley and sent on their way. The excitement of the day was now starting to course through Harry's veins, filling him with an energy he wouldn't have normally had at 5 in the morning. He wondered why they had to be up and at it so early, but he figured that it was just to ensure good seats. He and Ron walked side-by-side in comfortable, drowsy silence, behind Hermione and Ginny, who were chatting animatedly. Leading the way was Mr. Weasley and the twins, looking statuesque in the early morning light just now peaking over the horizon.

Suddenly, there was a shout in the distance. "Arthur!"

Harry looked and saw two figures walking steadily towards them. The one man seemed to know Mr. Weasley, and the other kept quiet.

"Good morning, Amos!" said Arthur when they had come close enough to each other to shake hands. Harry recognized the boy beside Amos as Cedric Diggory, a Hufflepuff sixth year who he had played against last year in the match that had cost him his first broom. _He's a lot cuter than I remember_, Harry thought, and then became slightly ashamed of thinking something like that about his fellow Quidditch player. Still, he couldn't seem to take his eyes off of the older boy.

"Kids, I trust you know Amos's son, Cedric, from school?" Everyone said hello and waved, except for Fred and George, who merely nodded curtly. Harry reckoned that they were still bitter about the match last year, and how Cedric's catching of the Snitch had won Hufflepuff the game. Cedric nodded to everyone, with eyes that lingered on Harry momentarily, then strayed back to his father. Harry did not notice this.

"Could that be THE Harry Potter?" came Amos's voice full of wonderment, snapping Harry from his reverie.

"Er... yes, hi," he said awkwardly, extending his hand for Mr. Diggory to shake.

"You know, I always tell Cedric what a crowning achievement last year's Quidditch match is... he BEAT Harry Potter! That will be a story to tell the grandkids, yes..."

Cedric spoke for the first time, saying, "Dad, I've told you, it was an accident... Harry fell off his broom because of the de-"

"But _you_ didn't fall off _your_ broom, now, did you?" said his father, eyes alight with pride. Cedric glanced at Harry hopelessly, who only gave him a look of 'just-don't-worry-about-it'.

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat loudly and said, "I think it best that we make our way to the Portkey now."

"Good idea, Arthur. On we get!" And with that, they all started marching up the hill towards whatever the hell a Portkey was. Harry trudged on, looking around at all the trees and the birds flying high above him in the indigo-colored morning. He was just happy to be with his friends.

Cedric Diggory was looking upon Harry Potter with increasing incredulity. He was wondering what a boy who had just gotten embarrassed in front of all his friends could be smiling up at the clouds about. _He's certainly a peculiar one_, Cedric thought. _I think I'll go have a chat with him_. And so he fell back behind his father, who didn't notice, for he was having a heated debate with Mr. Weasley about what the proper Muggle attire was.

"Hello," he said tentatively.

Harry looked startled as he noticed the auburn headed beauty suddenly standing next to him, looking upon him with an unknown emotion dancing in his eyes. They were grey like an overcast day in October. For some reason, Harry liked them very much.

"Hi," Harry said with a small smile, unsure where this conversation would go, only knowing that he enjoyed the sight of Cedric walking beside him.

"Listen, about my dad..."

"Don't worry about it, really. You and I both know what happened that day. Not that you didn't deserve the win. But I would have given you a run for your money if I hadn't fallen off my broom," said Harry with a smirk.

"Would you now?" Harry nodded enthusiastically. "What do you say that we have a little one on one rematch once we're back to Hogwarts?"

"Challenge accepted, Diggory." They shook hands on that, both ignoring the electric feel that climbed up their arms and into their chests at the touch.

_Those hands_, thought Harry. _Why are they so familiar..._

He realized that their hands were still clasped together when he hastily pulled his away, casting his eyes down on the grass. Cedric was amazed by the younger boy who had been through trials and tribulations far beyond his years and yet was humble, kind, caring, and full of life.

"So who do you think's going to win?" pressed Cedric, admittedly a little desperate to figure out The Boy Who Lived.

"Uh, Bulgaria, definitely. Krum is one of the best Seekers out there right now."

"Na, it's going to be Ireland, I'm sure of it. Their defense will curb your Chasers AND your Seeker any day."

"Not a chance!" exclaimed Harry, an impassioned look on his face. "As a matter of fact, I'll make another deal with you. If Ireland wins, we'll still do our one on one match. If Bulgaria wins, well... then from this point on we'll say that your winning the match last year was all just an accident."

"You're on!" Cedric said, grinning, and shook hands with the younger teen once more. Yet again he had to suppress a shiver from the feeling he got from simply touching his hand. What all of this meant, he didn't know. All he knew was that he felt happy, even euphoric when he was around the raven haired boy, and it was a feeling that he was not going to let go of any time soon.

Harry and Cedric both silently reveled in the marvelous budding and blooming of the delicate rose petals that symbolized their newfound friendship. This right here was the start of something wonderful and new, however frightening it may be. They approached the Portkey (which was in the form of a raggedy old boot) in high spirits, Harry all of the sudden remembering that he had absolutely no idea what a Portkey was.

"What the bloody hell is a Portkey?" he said to no one in particular.

"A Portkey is a random object that is turned into a portal that takes you to other places by magic. These objects are meant to be subtle and discreet, so that curious Muggles don't go grabbing at them. This Portkey will take us to the entrance of the campgrounds for the World Cup." Cedric answered.

Harry nodded his understanding, and Mr. Weasley announced that the Portkey would leave anyone who wasn't touching the boot in 5...

Harry felt the patchy, frayed leather beneath his fingers...

4...

He felt a surge of magic course through his entire being...

3...

He felt a smooth, strong hand on top of his, clutching the boot...

2...

Harry peered out of the corner of his eye to see that the owner of said hand was none other than Cedric...

1.

He felt the jerk of the Portkey whisking them away to the campgrounds. Harry hit the ground with unrelenting force, which knocked the wind out of him. He looked above to see that Cedric, Mr. Weasley, and Mr. Diggory were all floating down from the sky gracefully, Cedric awarding Harry with a secret smile that he knew was just for him. When he landed, he trotted over to offer Harry his hand, who eagerly obliged to be helped up. He wanted those strong hands all over him, to let them roam the places he didn't even know existed.

"Um... guys?" came Ron's disturbed voice. "The World Cup is this way." Harry only then realized that him and Cedric had been staring into each other's eyes, relishing the feel of being hand in hand. They snapped out of it, releasing the other's hand and looking away awkwardly. Ron shook his head and walked on to catch up with Hermione. Harry and Cedric shared sheepish grins and said their goodbyes and see-you-laters.

Harry looked on the diminishing form of Cedric Diggory with such disbelief that he soon convinced himself that the whole morning had never even happened.

**A/N: What do y'all think of the first chapter?! I can't wait to delve more into their relationship and develop both of their characters. I'm simply obsessed with writing this story now, I can't tap my keyboard even a little bit without my fingertips coming up with some new and crazy idea! I love it. **

**Also, do you guys like my Smiths tip-off in the chapter name? I love Morrissey. **

**I hope you guys love this chapter as much as I do. Please read and review!**

**Kails x**


	3. I See Fire

Poetic Justice

by: abandonyourdefenses

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, point blank period. All I own is this story, the words that you are reading. That's all. The poem "I Spoke to Thee" is by E. E. Cummings.

I See Fire

After the match was over (too quickly for Harry's liking, if he was honest), they were all back in their huge tent laughing and carrying on. It had been a good time, coming here with all his mates and watching professional Quidditch players work their literal magic for the first time ever. He didn't know it, but he would soon look back on this day as the last truly carefree, fun day he would have for the next three years.

The night would be a different story, though. Screams pierced the night, flames danced high into the sky and jinxes bounced around frantically, causing a mass chaos unlike anything Harry had ever seen before. And Harry had seen some shit.

All around him, he saw fire. He didn't know which way to go, seperated from Fred, George, Ginny, and Mr. Weasley at first, and then he managed to lose Ron and Hermione. His head was spinning. Until a sure, steady hand grasped his and darted toward the nearest treeline.

When Harry could finally catch his breath, he looked up to see the worry-stricken face of Cedric Diggory gazing at him intently. "You've got to learn to be quicker on your feet, Potter. You're like bait to those Death Eaters out there..." he shook his head as if he was trying to dislodge a thought that had entered his mind, too gruesome and too ghastly to keep.

"What are Death Eaters?" Harry questioned, head cocked to the side like a curious puppy. Cedric thought the sight was adorable, but had no idea what to make of him not knowing who his enemy was. He was obviously being kept in the dark about many things.

"You really don't know?" the younger boy shook his head. Cedric sighed. "They were what Voldemort's followers were called when he was still at large... I thought you would know that..."

Harry's eyes widened almost to the size of golf balls. Then he narrowed them and clenched his teeth. "No. I had no idea," he said bitterly.

Cedric shifted uncomfortably. He now wished he hadn't really said anything. However, he supposed it was better that he knew what was, or had been, out there.

"Er... well, no need to worry about it too much right now. You're with me!" Cedric said airily, trying to lighten the mood. To his delight, the green-eyed youth actually cracked a smile.

"You're right," he said quietly. "I am with you."

This struck a chord with Cedric that he couldn't quite put a name on. All he knew was that he saw fire all around, and not just in the landscape. He saw a fire in Harry's emerald orbs more bright and brilliant than any flame that danced around them off in the distance. His mind was at war with all of the fibers in his being that were telling him to pounce on the younger boy and take advantage of him while they were alone. _We don't even really know each other!_ one side argued.

_Since when have you been fussed about knowing someone before snogging them?_ The other side refuted. This is what struck Cedric dumb. Never before had he actually cared about his conquests, whether they be male or female. He was Cedric Diggory! Charismatic, cool, sexually magnetic. He could get anyone he wanted.

But he looked at Harry Potter and wanted to erase all the sorrow he had experienced in his short life. He looked at him and wanted to be the source of all his joys, passion, and speechless sighs. He wanted to be someone to him.

"Ced? You alright?" Harry said in a trembling voice, still a little frightened by their surroundings and a little bewildered by the obvious internal war raging inside of Cedric's mind. What about, though?

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said with a smile that suggested there was nothing wrong in the first place. Harry knew this was a lie, but decided not to push it. They sat down on the grass together, looking at the dark expanse of sky that would have been starry and beautiful if not for the thick clouds of smoke, billowing ominously into the stratosphere.

"I guess we should just sit here and wait for someone to find us," Cedric said.

Harry nodded. "We'll just end up being more lost if we go looking for a familiar face."

"Agreed."

They sat together in comfortable but uneasy silence as they thought of where their loved ones might be. Cedric decided to break that silence. If he were to try and win the heart of The Golden Boy, he had to share parts of himself in hopes that Harry would share back.

"You know what always makes me feel better when I'm feeling anxious or scared? Or, even, it sometimes helps when I'm angry, too..."

"What's that?" asked Harry.

"Reciting poetry to myself. But now, I have someone who could listen..." Cedric paused. "Would you like to hear some?"

"Sure," Harry replied, and turned to face him, sitting Indian style on the ground with his face cradled in his hands. Cedric would have liked to spend forever reciting poetry in the green grass with this shining star of a boy, breathing in the smoldering air together. This was their safe haven. Somehow, they knew no harm would befall them as long as they remained in this spot together, listening to the amicable harmony of each other's voices like a song that would sing you straight to sleep.

"This is by my favorite poet, E. E. Cummings." He cleared his throat and began:

_i spoke to thee_

_with a smile and thou didst not_

_answer_

_thy mouth is as a chord of crimson music_

_ Come hither_

_O thou,is life not a smile?_

_i spoke to thee with_

_a song and thou_

_didst not listen _

_thine eyes are as a vase _

_of divine silence_

_ Come hither_

_O thou,is life not a song?_

_i spoke to thee with a soul and_

_thou didst not wonder_

_thy face is as a dream locked _

_in white fragrance_

_ Come hither_

_O thou,is life not love?_

_i speak to thee with a sword_

_and thou art silent_

_thy breast is as a tomb_

_softer than flowers_

_ Come hither_

_O thou,is love not death?_

Cedric finished his poem, gazing at Harry somewhat apprehensively, trying to gauge his reaction. He had never recited one of his poems for anyone before.

There was a wide grin on Harry's face. "That was beautiful. I've... never read poetry before. At the Dursley's... well... let's just say that I wasn't privileged." he mumbled, resentment filling his quiet voice. Cedric frowned. A life without poetry? What a blasphemous life to lead.

"I'm going to show you everything I know," he declared. And he meant it.

Harry's eyes shone with a gratitude uncontested by any stars in the sky or the whispers in the wind. "I would like that."

_What a beautiful moment to share with someone equally as beautiful_, Cedric thought. But their moment, their small step out of time was gone when they heard voices screeching, "Harry! HARRY! Where are you?!" undoubtedly the voices of Hermione and assorted Weasley children.

"Ron! Hermione! Over here!" he shouted back, waving his arms frantically. Cedric was relieved to have been found by friendly, familiar places, but also saddened because his shining moment with Harry was over. Maybe, just maybe, they could hang out at school...

Hermione ran over to the pair, Ron and the rest of the Weasley's in tow. "Harry! Thank goodness you're alright! We saw the Dark Mark and we thought the worst..."

"Dark Mark?" Harry asked.

"You mean you didn't see it?" Ron asked, befuddled. Harry slowly shook his head. It wasn't until then that they took notice of Cedric standing back behind Harry sheepishly.

Harry started to explain what had happened since they had all gotten separated. "Cedric found me and dragged me over here... and we kind of just waited it out here and talked, hoping that someone would find us. And you did."

Hermione looked toward Cedric with a kind, knowing smile. "Thank you for staying with him, Cedric."

"It was no problem," he replied with a dismissive wave of the hand. "Um, well, I'm going to go find my father... I bet he's really worried about me... I guess I'll see you round, Harry?" Oh, he hoped and prayed that he would see that boy again, closer than sighting him down the corridor or across the Great Hall. Harry smiled and nodded, and with that, the boys went their separate ways, wondering if whatever it was they had started tonight would continue to grow.

**A/N: I was going to make this one longer, but I think this is a good stopping point for this particular chapter. **

**Obviously, one of the main focuses of this story will be poetry and how it helps Harry and Cedric discover their feelings for one another, as well as help each other out with the struggles they face in GoF. I have been drawing a lot of inspiration from poetry as of late, especially from E. E. He is brilliant. Maybe I will incorporate a poem or two from my personal portfolio later in the story.**

**This is the first time I've ever written anything in third person. I actually like it a lot better than first person. You'd think the latter would be easier, too. **

**Also, the chapter names will all be names of songs that sort of coincide with the happenings in each chapter from now on. At the end, they will be a playlist that I will put together on Spotify so that anybody can listen to it and think of our star-crossed lovers! **

**I hope you all are enjoying this story, thank you to my 12 followers and 4 favoriters! I would really like it if you guys reviewed, though. Feedback is important to me so I know what I'm doing right and wrong. **

**Thank you for reading x **

**Oh, and by the way, E. E.'s poem is typed exactly how it is written in the book of all of his poems that I have. He is known as one of the poets at the forefront of the literary revolution in the early 1900's, so he believed free form poetry with no necessary rhyme, meter, or basic grammar/language laws didn't matter when it came to writing poetry, or really writing anything creative at all. His work is simply magnificent. **


	4. Crush'd

Poetic Justice

By: abandonyourdefenses

Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, and therefore I do not own the Harry Potter universe.

Crush'd

Upon returning to the Weasley's humble abode, there was immediate pandemonium as Molly fretted and fussed over the well-being of everyone who had attended the Quidditch World Cup. Harry stood there in a daze and let her wipe the dirt off of his shoulders and out of his hair, but he found he was preoccupied with thoughts of Cedric Diggory.

Harry Potter was dumbfounded by the boy. Why had Cedric seemingly taken a special interest in him? Why did he grab _his _hand, of all people's, and drag _him_ out of the Death Eater's crossfire? Lastly, why was it so hard for them to let go of each other once they held on? Why were Cedric Diggory's storm cloud eyes so captivating? Why did his heart race at the sight of him, and why had his smooth, poetic prose calmed him so much that night? So many questions raced through his head… and he was determined to get answers. But how?

All he really knew was that, for some reason, he could not wait to see the Hufflepuff again. The simple thought of listening to him recite poetry again was tantalizingly appealing. He found himself wanting to speak to Cedric again soon. He contemplated sending him an owl, but then discarded that idea, fearing he would appear too eager. No, Harry would wait. He was bound to see him on the Hogwarts Express, and if not then, then during the welcome feast on the first night back at school. Without really noticing it, he was wishing that his time at the Weasley's would go by quickly, just so he could watch Cedric Diggory's mesmerizing lips move in time with his deep, sensual voice.

The rest of the summer holidays went by in a blur for our young hero. They didn't make the usual trip to Diagon Alley this year, since Mrs. Weasley had taken care of retrieving all necessary school supplies after they had left for the World Cup. The kids found themselves stuck at the Burrow for the remainder of their vacation, often taking it upon themselves to tidy up around the house in an effort to not become bored to death. On occasion they would all go out and play Quidditch, but that started to get old when Hermione began to complain more and more about how rubbish she was at riding a broom.

As much as he loved being away from the Dursley's, being stuck at the Burrow was beginning to grow tiresome. And so, on the morning of September 1st, Harry Potter was quite anxious to get to King's Cross Station and on his way to Hogwarts.

When they arrived at the station, and made their way onto Platform 9 ¾, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley as well as the older Weasley brothers all said their goodbyes to Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred and George.

"I wish I was going back to Hogwarts this year…" Charlie said lightly.

"Why? What's so special about this year?" asked Ron.

"Oh, you'll see!" replied Bill with a wink and a wave goodbye.

"Come on now, Charlie, you can't just allude to something wonderful and then not come out with it!" Fred moaned.

"Sorry, boys," Charlie pulled a fake apologetic face before nodding and retreating with Bill, leaving Mr. and Mrs. Weasley shouting goodbyes and last-minute reminders as the clock struck 11 and the brilliant, scarlet steam engine began to roll out of the train station.

"Blimey, I hope we find out what they were talking about soon!" exclaimed Ron, which earned vigorous nods from everyone. Fred and George then left to go find Lee Jordan, and Ginny went to find her fellow fourth-year friends, which left Harry, Ron, and Hermione in their compartment alone. They preferred it that way, besides. They could talk about things that you couldn't talk about with other "normal" people. When you hung out with Harry Potter, you weren't considered normal. But is normality really the best thing that you could possibly shoot for? Harry had made peace with his eccentricities years ago, and he knew without saying that Ron and Hermione had also. Normal or not, all they needed was each other to make it through.

They spent the remainder of their trip to Hogwarts discussing the secret thing going on at school this year, what they might learn as fourth-year students, playing exploding snap, and buying a wide range of sweets from the trolley lady. All in all, they were very excited to be returning to their exceptionally magical school. Especially Harry, who was anxious to see a certain sixth-year Hufflepuff. He wouldn't admit it, though.

The ride to Hogwarts had been mostly uneventful, until there was a loud knock on their compartment door. Without answer, the door was opened by none other than Draco Malfoy.

"Hello Scarhead, Mudblood, Weasel. Have a good summer?" Draco sneered, his cronies Crabbe and Goyle leering from behind him.

"You know, the whole 'ambush us in our compartment on the ride to Hogwarts' act is getting a little predictable now. Don't you have first-year dreams to crush? Candy to take from babies?" Hermione deadpanned.

"You laugh, but you'll see who will be a winner this year," he replied with an ugly smirk.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron asked exasperatedly.

"You really don't know what's happening this year? And your father works at the ministry?" Draco convulsed with laughter. "This is too rich!"

"Just tell us what the hell you're on about, Malfoy," Harry spat, although he knew all too well that Draco would never tell.

"No, I think I'll keep this particular news to myself, thanks," Draco said, still smirking, and closed the compartment doors satisfactorily.

Angry silence ensued, the Golden Trio looking at each other in bewilderment. All were thinking the same thing: What on Earth was going to take place at Hogwarts this year? After taking some deep breaths, they began to seriously discuss some possibilities of the upcoming event. A carnival? Circus? Competition of some sort? Harry just hoped that it didn't interfere with Quidditch. He was looking forward to saving his reputation, namely by kicking some Slytherin ass.

Meanwhile, the train was slowing down and stopping, signaling that the students had arrived. Harry, Ron, and Hermione got their things together and made their way to the carriages that would take them to the castle. They sat down and began to chat among themselves excitedly, anxious at the prospect of being back at their home away from home. Before the carriage could roll away, another person joined them. That person was none other than…

"Cedric," Harry gasped in surprise. He hadn't expected to see the older boy until dinner. Cedric looked upon him with a wicked twinkle in his eye and a dashing smile adorning his face.

"Hello, all," he responded, now acknowledging Ron and Hermione as well. They inclined their heads toward him, Hermione looking at Harry pointedly while Ron just looked confused. "How was the rest of your summer?"

"Oh, it was, um… pretty boring, actually. I'm ready to play some real Quidditch, no offense to Ron or Hermione," he said, grinning at them. "And you? Was your dad hacked off that you all got separated?"

"At first, yeah, but he was just worried about me," Cedric said, waving it off. "The rest of my break was basically the same, though. Didn't do anything exciting. My mum finally let me get a new pet, though."

"Yeah? Is it with you?"

"Yes! Meet my new cat, Shakespurr." He lifted a cat carrier to reveal a calico cat, whom Harry now realized was mewling relentlessly. "Don't worry, Shake, you'll be out in no time!"

Hermione was giggling on the other side of the carriage. Cedric grinned at her. "Like the name, do you? I thought it was pretty clever, myself."

"He's very cute, and the name fits," she said, still giggling into her hands.

"Thank you, I thought so too. He's very friendly, just doesn't like not being able to roam."

"I can understand that," Harry piped up, eager to keep Cedric talking if it meant he could be around him. Harry couldn't think properly when the auburn-haired lad smiled at him like that, or when he looked him in the eyes. It was too much for him to handle. It was the most attention he had ever gotten from someone whom he suspected might be even a smidgeon interested in him.

"We never discussed when we would settle our score, Harry. You know, since my team _did_ win the World Cup and all," Cedric teased, jabbing Harry in the shoulder.

Fighting the heat creeping into his cheeks, he said, "This weekend, one on one. It's a rematch," he said defiantly, and shook hands with the Hufflepuff, enjoying once again the feel of his warm, firm hands.

All too soon, the cart came to a halt and Cedric Diggory said his goodbyes to the Golden Trio, his grey eyes lingering on Harry's emerald ones a second longer than anyone could notice. Anyone except an all-knowing, all-seeing, nosy best friend named Hermione Granger. She kept silent, but knew there was something there. Feelings that they both felt, yet were unaware that they were reciprocated. She contemplated saying something to her raven-haired friend, but stopped that train of thought when she remembered that he hadn't even come out to her yet. She would wait until he was ready to confide in her, even though she already knew his secret.

They entered the castle and filed into the Great Hall. Everyone was gathered there and could be seen sitting at their respective house tables or making their rounds to reunite with their friends after the long summer break. Only the first years were missing, as they were still coming across the lake.

Eventually, everyone settled down and the Sorting was done, along with the start-of-year announcements that Dumbledore always did. Sneaking into the Forbidden Forest was still, well, forbidden, and strictly no dueling in the hallways. The announcement that everyone had been waiting for, however, was the one that would reveal to all the secret that the Weasley's and Draco Malfoy had kept from the Golden Trio.

"This year, Hogwarts will host the Triwizard Tournament!" boomed Albus Dumbledore, his white beard quivering as he spoke.

Everyone erupted into excited murmuring, until Dumbledore put his hand up to signal silence, and they quieted down instantly.

"We will have two other European schools joining us at the end of October. A champion from each school will be selected by the Goblet of Fire. Only those who are of age may enter. More details when the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students join us. Now, tuck in to a delightful dinner!" With a smile he sat down, and assorted foods of all kinds appeared suddenly on the long tables, which halted all discussion of the Triwizard Tournament, but only temporarily.

Amidst the crowd of ravenous teenagers and story sharing of a long summer, Harry snuck a glance at the Hufflepuff table. A certain sixth year was looking everywhere but back at him, which gave Harry the feeling that he was not the only one who had been looking. At this notion, Harry smiled down at his lap and shoveled more mashed potatoes into his overeager mouth, elated at the thought that Cedric might be feeling the same.

But what was that feeling? It was more than friendship, more than thinking he was simply cool. Harry also knew that it wasn't a silly infatuation. It was something more. Like he had waited his whole life to feel the need to be next to him, to want to feel Cedric's hand in his always.

Harry then admitted to himself that he liked Cedric. He liked him very much. But how could he be sure that the feeling was mutual? He certainly wasn't about to go up to him and say, "Oh hey, Cedric, I think you're fucking adorable, let's go make out." Somehow he knew that wouldn't go over very well.

Harry decided that he would simply bide his time and feel the situation out. He would get advice from Hermione (since he was almost positive that she had known even before he had) and gauge Cedric's feelings for him through careful observation, starting this weekend when they had their rematch.

Feeling satisfied by finally dissecting and coming to terms with his true feelings, along with an equally satisfied stomach, he joined the rest of the Gryffindors in heading up to the dormitories. This would be a life-changing year for Harry, but he didn't have any clue as to how drastic these changes might be. He fell asleep unaware of the darkness to come, enjoying some of the last blissful ignorance of his adolescent years.

**A/N: Holy crap! First off, thank everyone so so so so SO much for all the support, the follows, the favorites, and lovely feedback I've gotten from this! I'm so thrilled that you all like this story! **

**Secondly, I'm sorry that it took so long to update. I'm finally done with college for the semester, so I'll have a bit more free time (until January 16****th****, that is). I will do everything within my power to update again before the new year!**

**Any suggestions are always welcome, I'm always curious about what I can do to improve my story. I also have a new story up that is a work in progress. It's called "Maker's Mark" and it's a Sons of Anarchy fic, for any of my fellow Sons fans out there! (I HAVE NOT SEEN ANY OF THE FINAL SEASON SO PLEASE DON'T SPOIL ANYTHING FOR ME! I REPEAT, NO EFFING SPOILERS!) **

**Oh, and the song featured for the chapter is "Crush'd" by Say Anything. Just so you all know! If anyone has any questions about the playlist or my influences for it, feel free to ask. **

**LOVE YOU GUYS! x**


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